μαγεία του αιωνιότητα
by StrawberryPanda2
Summary: Summary will be updated per chapter. Chapter 1: Mora was always a bit different. "A bit different" being a sorcerer. Otherwise, her life is normal. She has a job, an apartment, a good friend or two, an apprentice, and her magical vacuum was stolen. Wait, what? Someone... stole a vacuum. And even better; it's magical? Just what does it do...? Rated T for safety


Chapter 1: The Vacuum of Time

Mora wasn't, in any case, a victim. No one stole from Mora. No one lied to Mora. No one fought Mora. Mora was strong. Mora was, also, not going to lose her iron-fisted control. Definitely not. Nope.

Mora reigned in her temper by biting her cheek. At least it didn't bleed, unlike when she was first learning to control herself. The red-head cast typically green eyes around the room, anger burning right behind her eyes. Even if stereotypes weren't true, Mora was, once, the living representation of a ginger's temper. Now, Mora just felt anger and crushed it with the ice of discipline. It was difficult, if not impossible, to get a rise out of Mora. At least, unless someone bothered what was _hers_.

That. That was exactly what someone had done. Someone had broken into Mora's apartment—more of a suite, really—and taken something from _her_ domain. And that's exactly what it was. The apartment _was_ Mora's domain. Mora was also, it seemed, very possessive of her things.

Gently, Mora stepped into her home fighting the anger that struggled against her chest. "Ma'am?" Mora turned to look at the old man who stood prim and proper in her doorway. Although Mora didn't have many friends—being cold-hearted and sardonic generally did that—the bellhop, who had worked at the plush hotel for so long he was just getting paid as a matter-of-course and not actually because he worked anymore, was the only friend Mora could claim.

"Hello Howard. I thought you'd be home with your wife today?" Howard smiled genially at the young woman. He was, like Mora, lacking in friends due to his irascible personality—often unknown because he was polite while working. Mora, of course, knew first-hand how sarcastic the man could get.

"That would be yesterday. I do have to work, Mora." Mora snorted; she knew that was a lie as much as Howard did. "Is there a reason you're tip-toeing around your own apartment with your door wide open?" Howard's smile took a turn toward the condescending, giving rise to one of Mora's brows.

"If you must know, I happen to like voyeurs. Is there a reason you're standing in the doorway? Come in before your knees give out on you." Howard walked into the room, chuckling, as he closed the door behind him.

"If you'd be so kind," Howard sat on Mora's black couch without asking, "why don't you tell me why you're acting like that now?" Mora dredged a sigh from her lungs and glanced around the spotless room. Deciding that it was pointless to worry at the moment, Mora joined Howard on the soft couch—even though it was black, it was a soft fabric instead of leather—and put her feet on the black-stained coffee table as she covered her eyes with elegantly long, pale, fingers.

"Someone broke in." Howard turned to look at Mora so fast, she could swear she heard his neck creak. Before he could speak, Mora continued, "Oh, don't worry Howard. I'm not injured and they didn't take anything of value. I just can't figure out what they did take. And they did, I have no doubt of that much." Mora pushed another sight past her teeth and rubbed her temples.

"Perhaps you should alert the police?" Mora knew that would be Howard's advice.

"Yes. Let's alert the useless police when I don't even know what was stolen. That'll do me so much good." Howard was torn between sighing and chuckling so he just opted for humor. It still stunned the old man how such an upstanding citizen like Mora could despise law enforcement.

Mora looked at her friend in her peripheral vision. The feeling of fondness that rose past the simmering anger that always resided beneath the surface was, as always, hard to place for her. Mora had never felt this way for another human being save a few exceptions from long ago. Irked by her own sentiments, Mora pushed those thoughts aside and stood. There was no point in sitting on the couch when she had better things to do.

"Come Howard, let's eat out. I don't feel much like cooking my own meal at this time. You should even call Carla. It's been so long since we've all eaten together." Howard joined Mora before he nodded.

"Of course. I'll borrow your phone." Mora watched Howard slowly walk to the kitchen, noting how awkward his walk was even though he denied his age catching up with him. Shaking her head, Mora walked over to grab her jacket, remembering the chill that set in on her way home. Right after opening her jacket closet Mora noticed what was missing right away. And cursed.

"Really? That's what they stole?" Howard peered around the door at the sound of her voice, worried.

"Did you find out what's gone?"

Red hair swished as Mora shook her head and turned her eyes to the ceiling, asking whatever god cared to listen, "Really?" Mora caught her friend's eyes with her own and shrugged. "I did find out what was missing." It was hard for the woman to resist smiling as Howard's brows met between his eyes.

"Well? What did they steal?" A loud exclamation turned Howard's attention to the phone, so he apprised his wife—Mora thought it was his wife anyway—of Mora's situation.

"My vacuum." Howard stopped talking immediately and sent Mora an extremely confused look.

"Your… vacuum?" Mora nodded, smiling because of Howard's voice, his tone belaying disbelief.

"Yes. My vacuum. Some idiot-" Mora had to pause so she wouldn't laugh, "broke into an apartment filled with valuable things-" A single snigger broke Mora's shield against laughter. "They broke in, bypassed all of the expensive items, and stole a vacuum I never use." Howard did a snort of disbelief and relayed the conversation to the phone. Mora waved Howard back to the kitchen, he went, and she grabbed her coat, swinging it around and sliding her arms through the sleeves.

"—Alright. We'll meet you there." Howard hung up and walked back out into the main room. As their eyes met, Howard shook his head, still not believing the item some thief stole. "We'll be going to the usual place." Mora nodded so Howard started walking towards the door. "Shall we?"

Mora hesitated, bringing Howard's attention back to her. "I'll be right out. Go on ahead. I just need to grab a few things." The old man shrugged and did as Mora told him to, closing the door behind him.

As soon as Howard was gone, Mora kicked the closet, letting out the anger she felt breaking past her calm. Of _course_ the one thing some _thief_ stole would be the _bloody_ vacuum. Mora growled deep in her throat as she thought of the vacuum. Although she told Howard it was a vacuum she never used, it was actually an example Mora was showing her apprentice. An example… of magic.

Mora rested her head against the closet door then, instead of kicking it. She had no idea what the vacuum would actually do: her number one lesson had been not to use magic if you had no idea what it would do. It might just kill you. That vacuum in particular, though, had been to show you could do just about everything with magic. Or anything. She was also loathe to admit it was hard to take apart the effects of magic. It was still magical, not because she couldn't take it apart, but because she had tasked her student with doing that and he was still failing that test.

She thought it was stupid, but he chose to put together a clock and a vacuum. Mora could only hope whoever stole it wouldn't do something stupid. Shaking her head, Mora went into her room, adorned only with the bed, closet, bedside table, and a bookshelf, and grabbed her ipad off the bedside table. Mora walked back out to the main room, grabbed her keys, and walked out.

Howard stood next to the elevator, waiting for her. Lucky for the both of them, the elevator came right as Mora walked up, saving them an even longer wait. The man waiting in the elevator took one look at Mora and started to smile flirtatiously until she glared at him. Mora and Howard walked in—Howard smiling and Mora with a blank expression that looked suspiciously like a frown—and turned towards the doors.

The two made an odd sight, Mora a tall, slim, pale red-head, and Howard as an old man who definitely looked like he's seen his fair share, and others' too, of years. Looking closely though, both stood regally, with their backs straight, and their chins parallel to the floor. Mora was, though, an attractive young woman.

Her bangs, after growing past her eyebrows, were pushed to either side of her forehead, exposing it. Also framing her narrow face were sideburns, falling straight past her collarbones and curling inwards at the bottom. The rest of her hair was pulled tight into a high ponytail, in which it curled every which way. Naturally, Mora had narrow features: narrow eyes, narrow nose, narrow jawline, among other things. Altogether, luckily, it gave off the illusion of elegance—or some would say of fine-cut ice.

Mora wore no make-up, but on the bridge of her nose rested, of course, narrow glasses. The rim was thin wire surrounding the clear lenses all the way around. Unlike the majority of young women, Mora only had one hole pierced in either ear. In each ear were earrings that dangled multiple silver chains all the way to her shoulders. Underneath the long black coat, that looked more like a trench coat with a belt, she had just put on, was a white tube top clinging tightly to her torso, and a black leather vest, also hugging her curves, buttoned only once. She wore a plain chain with a phoenix pendant hanging just above the edge of her shirt.

Her pants were just black straight-legged pants that covered her black boots. The boots made Mora, who was already around five and a half feet, even taller. This meant she generally towered over most people. Mora also, always, wore fingerless half-scoop black gloves. Mora never took her gloves off. Thinking of her gloves, Mora flexed her fingers and stared down at her hands.

Many people asked her why she hid her hands, not knowing of the symbols that looked tattooed into her skin. Those tattoos had once covered all of her skin, but as the years passed, they receded. Now they only covered parts of her hands. Mora closed her eyes then popped her neck. After the pressure was released, Mora looked to her side at Howard, and smirked.

"Are you going to look like a bellhop all night, or are you going to change first?" Howard sent her a sly look, responding to her question.

"If I changed, I'm afraid I'd outshine you, Mora." Mora let loose a bark of laughter.

"We wouldn't want that to happen now would we?" The elevator stopped and the man who had previously eyed Mora stepped between them and off the elevator. As the only two left, they went down a few more floors without stopping, and got off at the ground level.

"Mora," Howard caught Mora's attention even though he spoke quietly, "wait this time as I change." The tall woman looked around to her friend, as she wasn't looking at him when she stopped, guiltily. Already, she was walking away.

"Now where's the fun in that, Howard?" Howard rose a brow, and Mora responded with a shrug. "Alright. I'll stay." Smirking, she settled down on one of the soft chairs in the hotel lobby. Reassured, the old man walked off to the employee dressing room.

By the time he came back, Mora was playing on her phone. Just as he was next to her, Mora looked up. "Ready to go, Howard?" Howard offered his arm and Mora settle her hand in the crook of his elbow as she stood. Exactly like that, the two walked out of the hotel to meet his wife, Carla. As always, dinner with the three of them was full of dry humor and malicious sarcasm. By the time the three adults had finished, the old couple's cheeks were red with merriment. The three walked out and bade each other a good night, Carla and Howard going home together.

Mora watched her only friends, that feeling of happiness bubbling past her anger again. She really did love the two of them. Aware that the vacuum was still gone, Mora shook herself of the feeling and closed her eyes. She reached into a deep well of her power, deeper, even, than emotion or memory, and searched for the thread of power she created when creating the vacuum. Once found, Mora took a hold of it and followed the thin bond between her and her creation.

Mora was so focused on her thread, she didn't notice the streets or people around her, yet she still managed to avoid any collisions. Thinking back, Mora figured she'd tease her apprentice about this, since he was the one who put a magical ward on the vacuum so it couldn't be stolen. Mora would bet it didn't work.

The thread shortened quickly, indicating Mora was nearby. The sorcerer opened her eyes and set green orbs on a warehouse. Mora didn't bother to examine the exterior, it did her no good, so she just walked in, surprising the… hobo who had stolen her vacuum. Mora sniggered. A homeless man stole a vacuum?

The man in question jumped behind the vacuum as if it would protect him, "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Mora just gave him a glared and he wilted.

"I'm the owner of that vacuum. I suggest you give it back." The man wrapped his arms around the vacuum, defiantly shaking his head. The best Mora could do was shake her head and cover her eyes with her hand. Why did the homeless man go through the trouble to steal a vacuum? Why? "Step away from the damn vacuum, and just go home or something."

It was the dirty man's turn to glare, except Mora didn't cower, she snarled. She didn't want some idiot activating unknown magic, no matter how mundane the medium. Mora had all her worst magical incidents from small and stupid things. Bigger things were predictable. Small ones weren't.

The man jumped back and tripped, barely managing to right himself. As he was doing so—and Mora didn't think it would happen like that—he turned the vacuum on. Mora stared at the clock on the side of the vacuum as it started ticking backwards; of course the hobo had to turn it on. Growling, Mora sent a force blast to knock the man away into a pile of boxes, and started to walk towards the vacuum quickly.

The minute her hand made contact with the vacuum, the world abruptly turned a 180. All the colors blended into black and white, and Mora found she was privy to the sensation of falling. The red-head tightened her grip, knowing she didn't want to lose the—now she knew what it was—portal as she was traveling.

Finally the world settled down, and Mora looked around her. The warehouse wasn't around her, and the streets looked different, but not drastically so. Mora looked to her hand, to see no vacuum. Like most other portals, this one seemed to be a one-way. It seemed, to Mora, like the day was one for sighing.

"Well, no point in sitting around. I need to figure out where I am." Mora popped her neck and started walking towards the streets. It wasn't long before she got to a crowded street and stopped. This was definitely not the 21st century. Mora groaned this time.

"Really? It was a portal into the past?" All around Mora were women wearing the long dresses that were in fashion in the 1800s, and almost all of the men were wearing slacks and dress shirts. The red-head felt out of place. She did _not_ know what to do.


End file.
